Ruth had recognized early on in her understanding of her mutation that she was going to have to make some rather pragmatic choices, in the form of informing, hiding, or lying about the things she knew. Knowledge was a double-edged sword in this regard. Sometimes it would help you make better decisions. Other times, it was just a sign post on the way to damnation. It hurt, but she took the moments when she could do something positive, save a life, help a friend, even something as small as an accident that caused a smile, and held onto those things. They helped, in little doses, to keep her sane.
Save? From the darkness building at the edge of things, The all consuming future which was slowly eating away at the edges of any sleep Ruth was getting as well as that of others? The true pessimist in her said: no one. No one could truly be saved. Not even she and Mama Irene. They were both going to pay prices for what was coming. Whether or not it would be the ultimate price remained to be seen.
Irene's death was a high probability, as was her own. Ruth tried not to think about it.
"Ah don't know." It frightened her badly, but there weren't many choices for them to make. They could only deal with so much. The rest had to be left to others to make or break themselves. "Bu' we can try. Try and hope."
The anxious movements of Irene weren't lost on her, but Ruth didn't match them or try to stop her. What comfort they had in each other she was happy for.